


That's Just What You Do

by Lobotomite



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Eddie Diaz Week 2020, Gen, How does it work, Self-Esteem Issues, day one posted late because timezones, honestly at this point its just time, how do they work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:48:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24752668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lobotomite/pseuds/Lobotomite
Summary: Day 1 of Eddie Diaz Week - Eddie & the Son Who Adores HimEddie thinks about his expectations for fatherhood, and how the reality of life with his son isn't what he thought it would be.
Relationships: Christopher Diaz & Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 37
Collections: Eddie Diaz Week 2020





	That's Just What You Do

**Author's Note:**

> Real life stuff is kicking my ass at the moment, but I couldn't let the week go by without contributing at least something, so I pulled this together. It's not exactly what I intended it to be when I started writing, but I hope y'all enjoy it anyway

There were a lot of things in Christopher's life that Eddie agonized over missing, in those days before he finally came home for good. Milestones and events; first steps, first words, birthday parties and friends and new experiences. And it still kills him, still shames him, that he missed so much of that - every moment that he could have been there but wasn't curling dark and jagged behind his sternum, sending pain quick and sharp through him when he breathes too deep. 

But parenting isn't, has never been, a parade of picture-worthy one-offs, like the pages of a scrapbook. If he thought it was, maybe he would have stayed earlier, when he should have. But he knows - knew - all too well that in between those photo-perfect moments are the mundane, constant realities of a life being lived - 24 hours, 7 days a week of opportunities for him to lose his temper, to say the wrong thing, to let the sad shell of a person he is rub off on and damage this perfect little life with so much potential. 

It's not like he didn't know, that not being around for Chris wasn't exactly ideal. He'd just thought - life is all about trade-offs. Having a father that was essentially a stranger to him might not have been the best, might have been painful to experience every time he was home, but he'd thought - well. He'd been scared, mainly. But part of him thought - having an absent father wasn't good, but it was preferable to having _Eddie_ as a father. Eddie, who was painfully aware of how fucking young he was, how unprepared he was. Who didn't even know how to be himself yet, didn't even know who he _was_ outside of his parents' expectations and the shame that sat at the core of himself and the way every move he made chafed and sat wrong on his frame. How could he be a father, when he couldn't be the son he should be? When he couldn't be the person he should be? When he knew deep down that he couldn't love his son's mother in all the ways he should? 

No. Better to be a distant, disappointing father than an actively harmful one.

He knows now how wrong-headed that was. He still feels painfully out of his depth most of the time, still has to struggle through the knowledge that he's doing his son varying levels of disservice, but - he's there. He's there, and he fucks up, of course he does, but he's there and he stays and he does everything in his power to fix the things he does wrong.

It was only after making the effort he should have been making all along that he realized just how much he'd denied himself, as well. Not only the big moments and the milestones, but just - just being with Christopher, being around him, finding out exactly who his kid is. It was a constant revelation, being Christopher's parent - _properly_ being Christopher's parent. He loves his job, he loves his team, but that kid of his is the brightest spot in his life, and he has to be honest - that came as a surprise. 

When he found out he was going to be a dad, when he called himself one but wasn't, parenthood felt like yet another weight on his back. He loved Christopher from day one, but parenthood, to him, was responsibility - it was sacrifices and strapping that mask on tighter and making sure his kid was provided for. He'd been prepared for all of that when he moved himself and Chris across the country, away from his parents' stifling mixture of support and control. He'd expected being a parent to make things more difficult, more complicated, and he'd known it would be worth it, but he hadn't expected to, well, to _enjoy it_ so much.

It's not the parental pride that he hadn't been ready for; he'd been ready for it, _eager_ for it, to actually be there to experience the report cards and the school projects and the developmental milestones firsthand. He'd looked forward to the slowly, slowly improving drawings piling up and up and up, a fossil record of progress pinned to the walls. He'd always loved his son - he'd always been proud of his son - and being there to experience all of it was, honestly, more than he deserved. 

He's never really been a 'kid person'. He has younger relatives, seems to accumulate more every time he turns around, but he never really knew what to do with them - when he was a kid himself, it was far more important to try and keep up with the older boys, and then he was a teenager trying too hard to convince everyone he was a man to bother with the kids - and then he was a parent before he'd even managed to convince _himself_ that he was a man, and proved he wasn't by running as far from kids as he could. Even now, he's not particularly good with any that aren't Chris; he's not great with people, full stop, and kids are little, strange people with no filter.

And, okay, Christopher is also a small, strange person lacking a filter. But he's _Eddie's_ small, strange person, and - in his unbiased opinion - the best of them. It took a good few months of awkwardness and desperately fumbling his way through every interaction to get to this point, but being with Christopher is one of his favorite ways to spend his time. 

Growing up, his dad had a shed out back, strictly off-limits to him and his sisters, and when he wasn't at work or out drinking with his friends, that's where he was. It felt like the only times he actually saw his dad were mealtimes and when he needed to be disciplined. People always talked about parenthood like the real payoff came at eighteen, came with dusting your hands off and congratulating yourself on a job well done, and that had certainly been his father's attitude towards the whole thing. That wasn't what he wanted for him and Christopher, and he made a promise to himself that when he was there, he'd be _there_ , helping with homework and messing around with Lego and watching the latest Disney film for the hundredth time.

So that's what he did. He goes to work, he goes out with his team when he's invited, but other than that - barring a certain ill-advised past-time - he's home with Chris. And he's found there's nowhere he'd rather be. Hell, even when he's spending time with Buck, Chris is right there with them more often than not. He has room in the house, if he'd wanted to set up something like his father had - a space just for himself - but he really doesn't see the point. What's he going to fill it with? There's not even anything in his bedroom apart from the necessities. And he _likes_ the constant low-level mess that comes from having a kid in the house - he likes seeing half-finished pictures spread out across the table, likes finding miscellaneous toys that ended up in weird places, even likes the constant risk of tiny Lego pieces stabbing him in the feet. He doesn't need or want to get away from it.

He loves that he can trust that most nights are going to be just like this one, relaxing on the couch with a beer in his hand, something G-rated on the TV, and Christopher seated at the coffee-table nearby, mumbling to himself as he works away at his homework.

"Hey, Chris," he says impulsively, heart too full to stay silent. 

"...yeah?" Christopher responds after a moment, pulling himself away from his homework to tip his head back and peer over at Eddie.

"Love you, kid," he says. Chris wears his heart on his sleeve, and his reaction, as his reactions usually are, is immediate and obvious - his nose crinkles under the force of his bashful, delighted smile and he ducks his head.

"Love you too, dad," he chirps easily, completely ready to accept Eddie's declaration of love for its own sake, without looking for any catch or manipulation. It probably doesn't even occur to him that Eddie might follow it up with a 'but' or an 'I need you to' or bad news. He just goes right back to his homework, a happy little smile on his face.

And he figures... he might not be perfect, but his kid is loved, happy, and confident despite everything he's been through, so he has to be doing something right.


End file.
